


FF#18: maybe we're meant to lose the ones we love (but i'll fight for you 'til then)

by nightbloods



Series: maybe we're meant (to fight) [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, kinda heavy really, lots of feelings, not technically character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:05:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2332931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbloods/pseuds/nightbloods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olicity Flash Fic #18: "Free Fall"</p><p>There was a split second of numbness, the feeling of weightlessness as her body fell through the air. Her fingers moved of their own accord, grasping at empty space for something to hold onto, anything to find leverage against in the gravity of her situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FF#18: maybe we're meant to lose the ones we love (but i'll fight for you 'til then)

**Author's Note:**

> My first completed attempt at writing for Arrow, and my first ever crack at a flash fic. I'm a little rusty, but I think this came out alright. Sorry for the heaviness of it. In my mind, it's set somewhere in season 3, but there's really no set timeline. Enjoy :)

There was a split second of numbness, the feeling of weightlessness as her body fell through the air. Her fingers moved of their own accord, grasping at empty space for something to hold onto, anything to find some leverage against the gravity of her situation. Her mind was reeling, spinning and falling and breaking and standing still all at once as words and sounds bounced around in her head, pitching against the walls of her thoughts and shattering at the impact. Her head hurt. And in the midst of her panic, Felicity realized that she was still cold.

She felt a hand on her back, and knew it was Digg, trying to steady her both against the table she’d haphazardly fell alongside and what she had just witnessed.

Looking back, she’d never be able to figure out how she found her voice in that moment.

“You should go, find him,” she stumbled on the words, tripping over numb lips and the knot of panic that had wedged itself firmly in her throat. Digg’s eyes flashed, something akin to horror showing in his expression before sympathy took over once more. She knew he didn’t want to leave her, but he needed to find him.

He needed to find Oliver.

Digg squeezed her shoulder and she tried to offer him a reassuring look (reassurance of _what_ , she wasn’t quite sure), but it ended up looking more like a grimace. Felicity watched as he turned and strode for the door, the click behind him leaving her all alone in the foundry.

And just like that, she couldn’t breathe again.

Curling her legs up into her chest and making herself as small as she possibly could, Felicity squeezed her eyes shut and willed her mind to just stop thinking. She’d always prided herself on her ability to solve a puzzle. She could figure out problems faster and more effectively than almost anyone she knew, but this was one time that she didn’t want to think about the outcome, didn’t want to evaluate the facts, didn’t want to think about _anything_.

Trembling fingers threaded through her hair, tangling in the strands and holding on tight to find something to ground her. Everything was falling and breaking inside her and her ears filled with broken screams that some distant part of her mind recognized as her own. Hot tears beaded down her cheeks, dripping down onto the bright blue fabric of her dress, unacknowledged.

She had _heard it_.

Oliver had gone out on patrol for the night, promising Felicity and Digg a short night. He would make a quick drive around the Glades, he’d said, and be back in time for them to hit Big Belly for takeout before it closed. Felicity had barely glanced over her shoulder at him as he made his way out the door, throwing back that he would be picking up the tab tonight. She had listened distractedly over the comms, her attention divided between his voice in her ear and the program she had running on the bank of screens in front of her. The Glades were quiet for once, and with no pressing threats or potential immediate danger looming over her shoulder, Felicity breathed a short sigh of relaxation as Oliver announced he was heading back to the foundry. Everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

She was teasing him, smirking even though she knew he couldn’t see her as she ribbed him for a comment made earlier in the day during a meeting at Queen Consolidated. She spun in her chair, standing and winking playfully at Digg when Oliver let out a breathy laugh. She liked that, hearing him laugh. It didn’t fit with his usual broody personality, but the sparkle in his eyes and twitch of his lip that always seemed to catch him by surprise looked good on him. Felicity liked that she got to see that side of him, that she got to be the one to bring it out of him.

She was so caught up in their banter, the warm buzz that settled over her when he was so easy with her, that she missed the hitch in his breath.

The sounds that followed were ones the Felicity knew would probably never leave her mind. Metal on asphalt, skidding and grinding and scraping but not quite drowning out the strangled yelp ripped from Oliver’s throat, accompanied by the _thud_ and _snap_ of something decidedly not metal and very human hitting the pavement.

Felicity froze, fingers stilling from where they were toying with a stray arrow left lying beside her computers. The air in the foundry seemed to freeze as her eyes shot to Digg’s, her heartbeat coming to a screeching halt before kicking it into overdrive and slamming against the walls of her chest. Blood rushed in her ears, deafening and crushing as her wide eyes stayed locked on the man across the room, looking but not seeing.

The logical side of her brain fought to remind her that his comm link could’ve simply been broken or knocked aside, but the rest of her screamed that she couldn’t hear him breathing, that he wasn’t saying anything. The line had gone dead silent, and somehow the quiet was louder than anything before it.

That’s when her knees gave out. The arrow clattered to the floor with a sharp _clang_ and she buckled, falling against the medbay table as her body crumbled to the floor, bare legs hitting the cold solid surface that would’ve made her hiss in discomfort if her whole body wasn’t so _numb_. She faced the door, staring and searching, waiting for Oliver to appear at the landing. For green leather to slip in the door as he pushed the hood off his head, she waited to hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs announcing to her that he was back, to hear his voice behind her or smell the familiar scent of leather and spice as he walked past her to place his bow in its case.

She waited and waited, staring at the door until her vision blurred and her glasses fogged and it was all just a big black void in front of her.

It was the chill running through her that brought her back, not quite pulling her from her panicked daze but nudging her just close enough to coherency that she remembered why she’d stood in the first place. She was cold. Her heart was still stomping out an erratic beat in her chest and her hands trembling so badly she knew she couldn’t stop them if she tried, but she stood on weak legs, choking back a sob that threatened to strangle her and searched the room for her jacket.

 Oliver was everywhere. Really, she should have thought of that before she let her eyes scour the area, but it was difficult to think straight with the sound of his laughter and crushing metal knotted together in her mind and she had to grab hold of the stool at her side just to stay upright.

Her eyes flew past the target in the back, beat up and punctured all over from Oliver’s archery lessons with Roy. She glanced at the crates in the corner, the ones from his time on the island that had gone untouched for so long. The dress shirt tossed over the corner of a table, silver tie lying atop it where he’d dropped the items before swapping them for his leathers. Everywhere she looked, little pieces of him, souvenirs of his presence, unfinished projects and wrinkled clothes promising he’d come back for them.

Her gaze landed on one of his grey pullovers, discarded during a sparring session and left crumpled unceremoniously in a fleece heap near the training area. She crossed to it, legs moving of their own volition and buried her fingers in the soft fabric. Without hesitation Felicity wrapped the light jacket around herself, pulling it tight to act as a shield from not just the cold but the crushing reality hanging over her. She felt herself sink against the mat, breath quickening and heart pounding again as the familiar smells surrounded her and trapped her, leaving her somewhere between suffocated and  comforted but all around just confused and desperate for something to hold onto.

She clung to the fabric, riding out the waves again, waiting for Digg to return with a solemn expression. Preparing herself but knowing she’d never be ready to face the world again without Oliver, his near constant and reassuring presence in her life over the past years becoming an amenity she was neither ready nor willing to lose. Her entire body shook as she tried to reign in control over her sobs, quiet cries of desperation and fear falling from her lips unbidden. Pulling his jacket even tighter, stretching the fabric so badly she would’ve chided herself for it, Felicity tried to hold out hope, remind herself that Oliver hadn’t left her yet, she couldn’t give up on him before she gave him a chance to fight.

This time, it was the crackling of the comms buzzing to life that served as a savior from her thoughts. She tapped the device at her ear, letting out a strangled noise she didn’t know she was capable of making as hope and dread fought for dominance.

It was Digg’s voice that came through.

“Felicity, he’s breathing.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to know what you thought :)


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